


Bottle Caps

by zenderella



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dragons, Alternate Universe - Werewolves Are Known, Dragon Stiles, Dragon Stiles Stilinski, Dragons, Librarian Derek, M/M, POV Outsider, So Much Cuteness You Will Die, Writer Stiles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-23
Updated: 2017-06-23
Packaged: 2018-11-18 00:34:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,664
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11280051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zenderella/pseuds/zenderella
Summary: It was the seventh time this month they’d come in.They always came when it was quiet and this early Monday afternoon was no exception. The two of them always sat at the bar, two seats apart. The scruffy, dark haired, broody looking one with the eyebrows sat at the middle of the bar. He’d bring a book, or two depending on how near completion of the first he was. Erica would supply him with a steady flow of drinks for the afternoon. Always bottled beer. Never from the tap. She’d crack the top and place the bottle in front of him. Not looking up from his book, he would tap the empty space on the bar next to the bottle reminding Erica to hand him the bottle cap instead of tossing it in the bin. Not that Erica would forget after these last few weeks, but the habit had clearly already presented itself. Today she flicked the cap in his direction with a precision that only came from bartending for years. With a ting, it hit the bottle in Resting Grumpy Face’s hand and fell to the bar, wobbling a few times before settling in place.





	Bottle Caps

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Español available: [Bottle Caps [Traducción]](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12912777) by [Happy_Crazy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Happy_Crazy/pseuds/Happy_Crazy), [yuki_yuki](https://archiveofourown.org/users/yuki_yuki/pseuds/yuki_yuki)



It was the seventh time this month they’d come in.

They always came when it was quiet and this early Monday afternoon was no exception. The two of them always sat at the bar, two seats apart. The scruffy, dark haired, broody looking one with the eyebrows sat at the middle of the bar. He’d bring a book, or two depending on how near completion of the first he was. Erica would supply him with a steady flow of drinks for the afternoon. Always bottled beer. Never from the tap. She’d crack the top and place the bottle in front of him. Not looking up from his book, he would tap the empty space on the bar next to the bottle reminding Erica to hand him the bottle cap instead of tossing it in the bin. Not that Erica would forget after these last few weeks, but the habit had clearly already presented itself. Today she flicked the cap in his direction with a precision that only came from bartending for years. With a ting, it hit the bottle in Resting Grumpy Face’s hand and fell to the bar, wobbling a few times before settling in place.

Erica Reyes had been working at The Rain & Hale Bar for just over a month. The owner, Laura Hale, had been welcoming and pleasant to work with and Erica could see herself staying for a long time. Bars with family connections always showed more care. Put in more effort. It wasn’t just a business, it was loved. Laura was joint owner with her brother, Derek, whom Erica was yet to meet, but their love could be seen on every wall in the place. Everything was a relic from the Hale family. On her first day she’d learnt the entire wall of floor to ceiling books had been saved from their family home after a fire when Laura was younger. Family photos and other memorabilia hung over the bar and here and there around the place. It was a warm bar, full of soft sofas and cosy corners.

Erica turned her back on the counter and busied herself with prepping for when the inevitable evening crowd started to come in. Laura enjoying the hustle and bustle of the evenings, so she tended to come in later on in the day. This left Erica to herself for the quieter afternoons. The back of the bar was lined with a slim row of mirrors so they could keep an eye on customers as they worked. It was there she watched as Handsome Eyebrows, having just turned a page of his book (today he was nearing the end of Neil Gaiman’s American Gods) and not glancing from his page, with his empty hand he slid the previously tossed bottle cap along the bar, two seats down, to the end where the slim, pale guy with spiky brown hair and a splattering of moles sat with his laptop open.

Cute Moles always arrived with Dark Broody. He would take his place at the bar’s end, start up his computer, put on his over ear headphones and start tapping away. Grumpy But Secretly Sweet would have Erica supply him with a giant coke complete with a bendy straw and curly fries when the occasion seemed to call for it.

Then there was the bottle caps.

Now, Erica had been a bartender for a long time. She knew how to read people and knew when to leave people alone. These guys didn’t need to make conversation. They came. They sat. They drank. They did their thing. But the bottle caps, Erica was dying to know. Every beer, each bottle cap. Tap, tap on the bar. The cap was tossed. Then when Erica’s back was turned, the cap was slid on over to the end of the bar. There, Adorable Headphones would reach out (also without looking away from his laptop), pick up the bottle cap and place it in the pocket of his hoodie.

While they clearly weren’t a chatty bunch, they did talk with each other. If you could call it talking. Occasionally Bambi Eyes would toss a curly fry in Sexy Brows direction to get his attention. Bambi would tilt his head and smile, Hot Darkness would respond with an eyebrow raise, and a silent conversation would commence. Erica was also pretty sure they were sometimes playing footies beneath the bar out of her view. That conclusion came after the one time Cutie Moles fell off his stool, all legs and arms flailing, and Sir Grumpiness had only affectionately sighed and righted the stool before helping All Legs and Arms off the floor. Cute Limbs had just given him a goofy smile, replugged his headphones and returned to his typing.

Today was no exception. Once again, Moonlight Skin had reached for the bottle cap and placed it in the pocket of his hoodie, which today was red. That was the third one this afternoon.

“Jeez, Derek! Finally! Is your phone broken or have you just been avoiding me?” Laura Hale never entered a room quietly.

Her long dark hair whirled around her until she stopped and leant on the bar, her piercing grey blue magic eyes staring down the same magic eyes on the face of Mr Grumpy Tap Tap who proceeded to calmly mark his page with his bookmark (a Rain & Hale Coaster) and place the book down.

Looking up at Laura, he stated “Yes. I’m avoiding you.” Laura flicked him on the forehead.

“OMG! You’re the brother!” Both Laura and who is now clearly, Derek, Laura’s brother, simultaneously turned toward Erica.

Erica face palmed.

“How did I not realise this. It’s been a month! Mr Hot Grumpy Bottle Caps is Derek Hale, the brother.” She shook her head at no one in particular.

“Mr Hot Grumpy Bottle Caps?” Laura looked from Erica to Derek, raising an eyebrow. Derek just shrugged, took a swig of his beer, and continued his conversation with his sister.

“I’ve actually stopped reading and listening to your messages as well.” Laura took the beer right from his hand and finished it off.

“Oh God forbid your sister, your TWIN sister, wants to meet your girlfriend!” Angrily stabbing her brother in the chest with her finger.

Erica glanced from the siblings to Mr Curly Fries, who seemed to be shrivelling in his seat. He was doing what seemed to be a pretty bad job of trying to ignore the discussion happening two seats down from him. ‘Oh’, thought Erica.

She opened the fridge and grabbed another beer. She popped the cap and passed both bottle and bottle cap to Derek, giving him what she hoped was a sympathetic smile.

From what Erica remembered Laura had told her, Derek was a pretty private and solitary guy. A research librarian by trade, if she remembered correctly. Well, that explained the books. Speaking of which, Derek had picked up his book and attempted to open it up again. Laura was having none of that. She slapped her hand down on said book, slamming it to the counter.

“Der, I know we are werewolves, but you’ve always taken the idea of the Lone Wolf a little too seriously, I’m just super happy and excited you’ve found someone. Is that wrong?” Derek scowled, looking up at his sister who was currently giving him serious pouty face. Derek slammed his beer down on the counter. It bubbled up and over.

“Just because I’m not a carbon copy of you and happen to enjoy being introverted doesn’t mean it’s due to some archaic stereotype!”

It was at about this time that Erica noticed Cutie Moles was twitching. At first she figured it was for the obvious reason. She was 99.9% sure he was Derek’s secret boyfriend. But he no longer seemed concerned with the argument that was escalating two seats over. His eyes kept flittering from his computer to the bottle cap still at Derek’s side.

“Oh here we go”, Laura rolled her eyes, “Go on! Start quoting your thesis again!”

Derek rose from his stool, both palms on the bar top leaning even closer in his sister’s face.

“God damn right I’ll quote my thesis! You know how harmful these myths and stereotypes are! You’ve lived the results of being stereotyped! Our god damn house was burnt to the ground due to these stupid werewolf myths and yet you want to judge people and entire races based on them!”

Mr Twitchy’s hand had slowly started to reach out along the bar in the bottle caps direction.

“For god’s sake, Der! Is this about the Dragon thing the other day?! I was quoting Trump!”

Derek stilled, looking like a confused puppy, “What?”

Laura sighed dramatically (which Erica now recognised as an apparent family trait) and placed a soothing hand to the side of Derek’s face.

“You stupid brother, I was quoting Trump. You walked in on me discussing his stupid ban on Dragon Immigrants into this country. Did you really think I agreed with that stupid Oompa Loompa?” She dropped her hand, and turned to get herself a beer.

With that, there was a thump and some wild flailing as Twitchy Twitchy fell off his bar stool.

Erica and Laura bent over the bar, only to see a mole speckled guy on the floor, who had some how cushioned the fall of his laptop his headphones had dragged along with him, with his legs. He looked up at the women’s faces peering down on him and then to Derek who was now crouching down beside him. He blinked his Bambi eyes at all three of them. Blush rose up his pale skin as he held out his open hand to Derek.

“Um. I got it.” In his palm was the bottle cap. His blush brightened even further.

Derek just chuckled, smiled the brightest smile Erica had ever seen and helped Bambi and his things off the floor. He settled him back on his stool and helped him adjust everything back in order and then tapped on his hand. Moles beamed back at Derek and carefully placed the bottle cap in his pocket.

Derek turned to his sister, who was staring blankly at a red hoodie pocket.

“Laura, I’d like you to meet Stiles. My boyfriend.” Laura blinked from Stiles’ pocket, up to his face, and then to Derek.

“OMG THE BOTTLE CAPS!” Erica exclaimed. All three heads turned in her direction.

“Oh no”, she waggled her finger in everyone’s direction. “Don’t take this away from me. This has been driving me crazy for a month!”

She took her time getting her own beer, cracking the top, taking a swig, and placing the cap in front of Derek. She looked him right in the eye.

“Myth. Dragon’s are criminals. They steal things.” Derek gave a small smile and a nod, taking the bottle cap and sliding it across to Stiles.

“Correct. Myth. They like to collect and hoard things.”

Erica smiled brightly. “Hence the bottle caps!”

Derek laughed. Stiles picked up the new bottle cap in front him and placed it once again in his pocket, “Yes, hence the bottle caps.”

 

————

Dragons are criminals. They steal. Dragons are weirdo hermits. They never leave their homes. They do drugs, are self obsessed and incapable of loving anything other than themselves and money. Derek Hale had heard it all and it was all bullshit.

Derek should know. He’d been dating one for over a year. Stiles Stilinski was the love of his life and a dragon.

“Dragons are hermits.” Laura was pestering him now as payback, he was sure of it. Erica was wiping down the bar, all the while smiling since she had solved her little mystery.

“Myth. Obviously.” Erica gestures to Stiles sitting two seats down at the end of the bar.

Derek nods in agreement. “He doesn’t like crowds and loud noises. Dragons like space and aren’t the most social of beings, but it’s not a constant. Stiles likes quiet and sanctuary. Space for Stiles is him sitting two seats down from me at this bar while he works. Quiet is headphones, and sanctuary for him is knowing I’m nearby.”

Stiles was a writer. He wrote Crime Fiction mostly. Derek had first met him when he was in research mode for one of his many novels. Derek, being a research librarian whose research specialty was crimes and cold cases, had one day, two years ago, answered the phone to a stressful hyperactive voice who had bombarded him with a million questions at once. Derek had done his best to answer. Stiles called again the next day, and the day after that.

“Dragons are Gold Diggers.”

“Myth. Well, a stereotype. As stated, they collect all sorts of things, each to there own liking. Many collect coins and shiny things. That’s where the ‘Dragon’s only love money’ stereotype came from.” Stiles loves shiny bottle caps. Not exactly a gold mine.

“Dragons are all drug addicts.”

“For starters, not all dragons are the same. That’s like saying all humans or werewolves are the same. Which is stupid”, he gestured first to himself and then to Laura, “clearly.”

“Clearly.” Laura threw a slice of lemon at this head.

Derek dodged the lemon and smirked. “The drugs is a Myth. That’s just the smoke thing.”

“Smoke thing?” Laura raised an eyebrow.

Stiles had called every day for two months before Derek had asked him out for coffee. A couple of months after that Stiles let Derek into his apartment. While the myth that Dragons were hermits was complete baloney, they did tend to be very cautious of who they let into their homes. It was the collecting that usually caused it. Embarrassed their hoard would be criticised or judged. It was hard to ignore hundreds of years of societal expectations and myths. Stiles inviting Derek into his home had been a big deal. He trusted Derek and had been busting at the seams excited about it.

Stiles had practically pulled Derek in through the door and eagerly started showing Derek his hoard. Stiles apartment was neat, tidy, and well, very organised. All around the room were shelves full of glass jars. Shelves upon shelves of glass jars in all sorts of shapes and sizes. At first the jars didn’t seem to have any particular order, but slowly a pattern emerged.

On one shelf had been a large jar full of army men, a jar of little single serve packets of wasabi paste, and a smaller jar with three of those little tree car air fresheners. On a higher shelf, a jar packed to the brim of Coca-Cola bottle caps, a tall thin jar full of red and white striped bendy straws, another full of KFC wet-naps, and a huge jar of ketchup packets. One shelf had just two jars. One with old ticket stubs, and the other within it, a single autographed New York Mets Baseball.

Derek had pointed at each shelf in succession, “Green things. Red things. Um, white things? You sort by colour?” Derek had turned asking the question, to find Stiles nodding nervously running his hands through his hair, causing it to spike up at all sorts of angles. “Do you like it?” Derek had immediately smiled and nodded.

Stiles had grinned from ear to ear and then smoke had started coming out of his nose. It turns out Stiles smokes when he’s happy.

Derek reached out along the bar, leaving his palm up and open. Without looking Stiles soon reached out and placed his hand in Derek’s. Derek began to rub slow circles on the back of Stiles’ hand with his thumb. While Stiles hadn't looked away from his screen, seemingly unaware, he parted his lips and out came a small tendril of smoke that whispered up into the air.

“OMG. Dragons are the cutest ever.” Laura leant on the bar, chin in her hands.

Derek beamed at Stiles, “Not a myth. Completely true.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much to my Beta [WhenAngelsFall](http://archiveofourown.org/users/WhenAngelsFall) for all the enthusiasm and support!
> 
> Kudos and Comments completely make my day and make the sunshine come out.
> 
> Everyday I'm [Tumblrin'](http://zenny.tumblr.com).


End file.
